Chapter 22 - The GraveTaylor asked Marcus whether she could visit Andre's grave.

The fact that she asked bothered him.

"You don't need permission."

"I know."

"Then why ask?"

She thought.

"Because I don't want it to feel secret."

"Tell me because we're married. Don't ask me like I'm your father."

Taylor nodded.

"I'm going Saturday."

"Okay."

She hesitated.

"Do you want to come?"

"No."

She accepted it.

Saturday morning she drove alone.

Marcus stayed home with Miles.

Three hours later Taylor returned carrying nothing.

Marcus noticed.

"No flowers?"

"I brought some."

"Then?"

"I left them there."

He smiled faintly.

"I assumed."

Taylor sat at the kitchen table.

"I told him goodbye."

Marcus became still.

"What does that mean?"

"Not goodbye like I'll never visit."

"Okay."

"I said goodbye to the future I kept pretending we were owed."

Marcus sat opposite her.

Taylor continued.

"I told him I named my son after him."

"What did he say?"

Taylor laughed.

"You're terrible."

Marcus smiled.

Then she grew serious.

"I read the letter again at the grave."

"The one from the lockbox."

"Yes."

"How was that?"

"I was angry."

"At Andre?"

"A little."

Marcus waited.

"For writing something so sensible."

He laughed.

Taylor smiled.

"Mostly I was angry at myself."

Marcus shook his head.

"Careful."

"What?"

"Don't turn healing into a new way to punish yourself."

Taylor looked surprised.

Marcus continued.

"You made bad choices. You don't have to hate yourself enough to balance them."

Taylor's eyes filled.

"Therapy is making you annoying."

"Apparently."

She reached across the table.

Stopped before touching him.

Marcus noticed.

Then, for the first time since the revelation, he extended his hand.

Taylor stared.

She placed hers in his.

The contact was simple.

Warm.

Marcus felt how much he had missed it.

Taylor began crying.

"Don't make this bigger than it is."

She laughed.

"I won't."

They held hands for less than a minute.

Then Miles cried.

Marcus released her.

"I've got him."

Taylor smiled.

Their intimacy returned in fragments.

A hand.

A shared joke.

Dinner at the same table.

One evening Marcus fell asleep upstairs after feeding Miles.

He woke at two a.m. with a blanket over him.

Taylor had covered him but not woken him.

The gesture moved him more than apologies had.

At counseling, Marcus admitted he had become afraid of trusting his own judgment.

"I chose her."

The counselor asked, "And?"

"I was wrong about what I thought I knew."

"Does choosing someone who deceives you mean your judgment was defective?"

Marcus frowned.

"Feels like it."

"Did Taylor deceive everyone?"

"No."

"Did people close to her know?"

"Yes."

"So she actively managed information."

Marcus understood.

The deception was evidence of Taylor's choices.

Not Marcus's stupidity.

The distinction restored something.

Meanwhile Taylor confronted Nicole more directly.

They attended therapy together once.

Taylor apologized for making Nicole responsible for managing her emotions after Andre's death.

Nicole apologized for confusing protection with control.

"I should've let you tell Marcus before the wedding," Nicole said.

Taylor looked at her.

"You didn't stop me. I stopped myself."

"I deleted the message."

"Because I asked."

"Still wrong."

"Yes."

The sisters learned to share blame accurately without competing to absorb all of it.

That mattered too.

At home, Marcus began sleeping upstairs occasionally.

Not in the marital bed.

In the nursery chair when Miles had rough nights.

One morning Taylor found him there.

"You know there's a guest room."

"I know."

"And a basement."

"I know."

"You enjoy back pain?"

"Apparently."

She smiled.

Marcus stood.

Taylor moved aside.

Their bodies passed close.

Neither stepped away quickly.

The moment hung.

Taylor whispered, "I miss you."

Marcus looked at her.

There were many possible answers.

He chose the true one.

"I miss you too."

Taylor cried immediately.

He sighed.

"You're making me regret honesty."

She laughed through tears.

"I know."

Marcus touched her cheek.

The first intentional tenderness since Chapter One of their crisis.

Taylor closed her eyes.

He did not kiss her.

Not yet.

That evening an email arrived from Evelyn.

She had scanned one final document found during her move.

Not a letter.

A receipt.

A receipt from a jewelry store.

Taylor opened it.

Andre had paid a deposit on wedding bands.

Then received a refund three days before his death.

Taylor stared at the date.

The same day as his email to Malcolm about postponing the courthouse wedding.

Marcus watched her expression.

This was no longer ambiguous.

Andre had taken practical steps to delay the marriage.

Taylor closed her laptop.

Marcus asked, "You okay?"

She nodded slowly.

"I think so."

"Want to talk?"

"Not tonight."

He respected it.

Before bed, Taylor placed the scanned receipt into the digital folder with Andre's other records.

She did not print it.

Did not hide it.

Did not destroy it.

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The truth no longer needed to become either shrine or weapon.

It could simply be true.